


Can't Wake Up

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, First War with Voldemort, Friendship, Mystery, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2005-10-26
Packaged: 2018-05-18 09:39:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5923627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe I’m dreaming, but if I am, then this is the most fucked up dream I’ve ever had – and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it because I can’t wake up.  I can’t wake up, and it’s worst feeling in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

I feel like I’m sleeping. No, that’s not quite right. I can’t wake up, can’t do anything, but I’m completely aware of everything. I just can’t control it. Maybe I’m dreaming, but if I am, then this is the most fucked up dream I’ve ever had – and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it because I can’t wake up. I can’t wake up, and it’s worst feeling in the world.

Do you know what it’s like to know exactly where you are, exactly who’s in the room with you and what they’re saying, but not be able to respond because you can’t even open your fucking eyes or mouth, much less talk? I doubt it, and I envy you that. Because that’s precisely what I’m going through. 

I can tell by the disinfected scent of the recycled air that I’m in a hospital. The stiff, equally disinfected cotton sheets tell me I’m in a bed – which makes sense, as they don’t normally put people who can’t seem to wake up in chairs for days, possibly weeks on end. I can also tell that I’m in a wizard hospital because there’s no low hum of electricity. Of course, the putrid potions I get shoved down my throat each day are also a big clue. I can tell by the low rumble of a deep voice that someone’s talking, probably just behind the door to my room because their voice is muffled slightly. The voice is definitely male, probably one of the healers because I don’t recognize it. I’m not sure what he’s saying – I could figure it out, if only I could wake up. Why can’t I wake up? I’m scared. 

I need to wake up. I keep trying, keep fighting to open my eyes, to move my hand, wiggle my toes whenever someone’s near, but – I can’t. I can’t do a fucking thing, and it’s terrifying because I need to do something. I need to know why I’m like this, but no one who comes to see me ever mentions it. My friends come to visit all the time, every few days at least, and I can hear the concern in their voices. They’re just as terrified as I am. I heard Lily talking to one of the healers yesterday, and wish I hadn’t because they said if I stay like this much longer, there’s a good chance I’ll never wake up. They’re giving up on me, I can feel it. Even Sirius is – and Sirius promised never to give up on me. But they think I’m dying, so who can blame them? My time will be up in a few more days. They have more important casualties coming in each day, or so they said. If I don’t wake up soon, I never will. Why can’t I wake up? Why can’t I do something? I don’t understand. I’m scared.


	2. Chapter One

At nearly three thirty in the morning, Sirius slammed the door to his and Remus’ darkened flat. He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, illuminating the living room with a wave of his hand. Sirius removed his cloak and dropped it onto the coat stand next to the door, not even caring as droplets of water that had been clinging to him since he came in from the mid-winter storm outside splattered across the hardwood floor. The dark haired man kicked off his boots before wandering over to his favorite overstuffed easy chair and collapsing onto it with a defeated sigh. Then, Sirius did something he hadn’t done since he was ten. He cried.

Sirius had somehow known when he’d woken up that morning that something was going to go wrong that day. How he’d known that he couldn’t be sure, as the morning had started off like any other. He’d been woken up as usual by the smell of Remus cooking breakfast in their tiny kitchen. It had been his favorite breakfast, too. Bacon, eggs, toast, sausage and coffee. Remus hated coffee, said he couldn’t stand the smell. But he still made it for Sirius every morning. That was one of the countless things Sirius loved about Remus – he was willing to put up with things he hated for the people he loved. Sirius had pulled on his dull grey Auror’s uniform before strolling into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around Remus’ waste from behind, kissing the skin of the werewolf’s neck that was visible above the collar of Remus’ own work robes. 

“Morning love,” Remus had said contentedly, turning around to kiss Sirius on the lips. “Breakfast’ll be ready in a minute or two.”

“Hmm,” Sirius had hummed happily in response, before releasing his lover. “I’ll just set the table, then.”

The two of them had enjoyed a perfectly normal breakfast, kissing every so often and discussing what their plans were for the day. Remus had planned to go in early to work to finish a report an experiment he was taking part in for MCR, the magical research company he’d been employed at since graduation three years ago. After work, Remus had intended to go to his parents’ house in Surrey and have dinner since Sirius would be late getting home. They’d said goodbye in the living room, Remus heading for the door and Sirius for the fireplace, with a hug and a kiss and an ‘I love you, be careful.’ A perfectly normal morning. Perhaps too normal.

Sirius had hoped to be able to go into work at the Ministry, settle into his cubicle after checking in with Moody, and finish the towering pile of paperwork sitting on his desk. He’d hoped that today would be one of the rare quiet days, one of the days that made life as a soldier in a war worth living – a day that the enemy didn’t attack, a day that wouldn’t leave them all reeling from yet another disaster. Unfortunately, that hope had been in vain.

The first hour or so he’d spent at work that morning nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Most of the Aurors were there, either drawing up casualty lists yet to be completed from attacks that had occurred two weeks ago or filing reports about investigations on suspected Death Eaters. James, whose cubicle was just a few rows down from his, had come around at about nine baring two cups of coffee and a smile. James was one of the few Aurors who could still smile on a regular basis, and it was no wonder. Lily was three months pregnant with their first child, and they were all both ecstatic and terrified. The idea that the Marauders were old enough to be married with kids was scary enough, and the fact that this child was going to be born in the midst of a war zone was even more frightening. Even now, after what had happened today, Sirius knew that he and his friends were lucky – he and Remus, James and Lily, and Peter and Grace had all done the near impossible and created normal lives for themselves will fighting in a war.

“Thanks mate,” Sirius had said, taking the steaming cup from his best friend. He took a tentative sip of it and nearly spit it out. It was black, just the way James liked it and Sirius hated it. “Bloody hell, James, can’t you make a decent cup of coffee?”

“Yes I can, you just don’t know what a decent cup of coffee is,” James had answered with a small laugh. “So, aren’t you even going to ask why I’m smiling?”

“Hmm, let me think…” Sirius said, feigning a look of deep concentration. “Nope, I’m not. You see Prongs, you are completely predictable. So unless you’re smiling because you’ve discovered a way to defeat Voldemort I’d say it’s because Lily just had another check-up yesterday and everything is fine. Or you had sex last night, and if that’s the case then for the last time James, I don’t want to know all the sordid details.” 

“I wouldn’t tell you then even if you did,” James had shot back with a glare. “And no, I haven’t figured out how to beat the old bastard yet, but I will. But you were right – Lily had her check-up yesterday and everything’s perfectly normal. Excuse me for thinking that you might be interested in the health of your unborn Godson.”

“That’s great, mate – wait, Godson?” Sirius had exclaimed, sitting up in his chair with a start and actually spitting out his now perfectly sweetened coffee. “When was that decided?”

“Last night,” James said with a smirk. “I know it seems kind of early, but Lily says we need to start thinking ahead. She wants to ask Remus as well, so don’t worry about who’ll be Godmother – assuming, of course, that the both of you say yes.”

“Well, I’ll have to ask Remus to be sure, but I don’t see why not,” Sirius said as he stood up to shake James’ hand.

“Thanks, Sirius,” James responded happily, clapping on the shoulder after he’d released his hand. “You don’t know what this means to me and Lily.”

“No problem, mate,” Sirius said with a laugh. “You’d better get back to your cubicle, though. Moody might think we don’t have enough work if he catches us standing around talking.”

“Right,” James said with a shudder as he left the cubicle. “He might give us more paperwork.” 

The next few hours had passed in much the same way, with only a few Aurors being called out to deal with some small scale attacks in Brighton and London. Neither attack had been fatal, and while the injuries had been numerous, almost none were critical. Most of the others had counted their blessings, but Sirius had thought it incredibly suspicious. The Death Eaters never attacked without killing. Never. Still, Sirius had been glad the attacks hadn’t been serious and that he hadn’t been called away to fight – or worse, clean up the remains. At the time, he hadn’t known how many more mangled bodies he’d be able to see before he just gave up.

However, Sirius now knew that he had reached that number and it had been surprisingly short. It had only taken two destroyed bodies and one missing person and he’d lost it. Because those two destroyed bodies had been the parents of that one missing person. And that one missing person was his entire life. Remus.


	3. Chapter Two

Sirius is here. I know, because he’s sitting in a chair a few feet away, and I can smell the slightly herbal scent of his shampoo. I’m glad he’s here, even if neither one of us is the best company. I hate being alone under any conditions, and having someone here with me now, especially Sirius, reminds me that I’m not dead – not yet, anyway. That’ll change soon, I think. I can’t be sure how long I’ve got because I’ve lost all sense of time, but I know the healers promised Sirius they’d give me two weeks. Two weeks, however long that is, and I’ll be dead. I don’t want to die. I’ve got to find a way to wake up.

I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or not, but something has changed in the past few…hours?...days?...weeks? I don’t know how long it’s been, but I know that something has changed. I can see – things – but it’s odd. Odd, because I know my eyes aren’t open. I know because the first time I had a…vision, or whatever they are Sirius was with me then, too. He kept begging me to open my eyes, to talk to him, and I kept wondering why he was asking me to do that because my eyes were open – or so I thought. Sirius kept crying, pleading with me to wake up. He kept saying that he needed me back, so could I please fucking respond so I could come home with him? I wanted to call him an idiot, because couldn’t he see that I was awake? But he couldn’t see because I wasn’t awake. It was then that I realized that what I was seeing didn’t make any sense. 

I was hearing Sirius’ voice, could feel his hands on me, coaxing me to wake up, but I saw – a young woman. A girl, really. It was strange because I recognized her – but I had no idea who she was. I still don’t. She had curly blonde hair, and was wearing a knee-length blue satin dress with a white sash. She looked…familiar. The girl was sitting in a rocking chair in the corner of a small, otherwise empty room with white-washed walls, a hardwood floor, and two dingy bay windows on the opposite wall that barely allowed any light through. Her face was caste in shadows, but in her lap she was holding – something. I could tell that it was small and round, but was too far away to distinguish anything else about her or the object. I felt strange…as if this – vision – was somehow more real to me than the hospital bed and the man sitting next to me. I can’t explain it for some reason I was drawn to that object. I needed to know what it was, so I tried to approach it. As soon as I moved, the girl looked up at me for the first time. The anger in her eyes was staggering, and her small hands clenched around the object. She opened her mouth to speak, but as she did, the room suddenly started spinning as if we were caught up in a whirlwind. Abruptly, everything around me disappeared, and I was plunged back into darkness. Sirius was still there.

I’ve had two visions since then. The second time, Peter was with me. He was talking to me, but all of a sudden, it was as if I was listening to him through a badly tuned radio. His voice was fluctuating – fading out. Seconds later Peter’s voice was gone entirely, replaced by wind. A loud, roaring wind. I was in a desert, in the midst of a sandstorm – but it was as if I was merely watching it. I could hear the wind, see things moving around me, but I couldn’t feel it. Then, with a sudden flash of light, the storm ended and – there she was. The blonde haired girl in the blue dress with the angry eyes. She was holding the same object as before, but how I knew that I’m not sure – she had her back to me. I approached her, knowing that she was somehow the key. To what, I’m not sure. “What’s your name?” I asked her.

“Elysian,” She whispered. Then she screamed – a horrible, blood curdling scream, and before I could respond I was wrenched away from the desert, and forced back into reality. My own private blind hell.

The most recent vision began not too long ago – I think. One of the healers was with me. I think she was muttering something that might have been meant to comfort me while she forced my mouth open and poured something truly horrid down it. I would have choked had I been conscious – but then, if I’d been awake, I wouldn’t have needed the potions in the first place. In any case, this time when the vision came, it was much less gradual. One second I was lying blind in a hospital bed having what tasted like poison shoved down my throat, and the next I was standing at the very top of Gryffindor’s side of the quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. It was a warm, clear spring day and the weather was perfect for flying but the pitch was deserted except for me. All of a sudden, I felt the sensation of something wooden, something slightly heavy materializing in my hands. Looking down, I saw with a start that it was Sirius’ Cleansweep – which had been destroyed during a nasty match in seventh year. Having been unable to afford my own broom in school, I used to borrow one of my friends’ brooms whenever I wanted to go flying. I didn’t even pause to think as I mounted the broom that no longer existed in reality and launched myself out of the stands and high into the air. Just as I’d done a complete circuit around the pitch, I looked down and there she was again. The blonde girl, Elysian, was standing there in the center of the field, her face upturned. For once, she was looking directly at me. I took that as my cue to stop flying, and landed next to her seconds later. She was still holding the object.

I approached her warily, and again I noticed the angry look in her eyes. “Your name is Elysian?” I asked her.

She nodded, her hands clenching the object tightly. “You have many questions, Remus Lupin. Ask them, but be quick.”

“Why are you angry?” I questioned her. “What is that object in your hand? Why am I having these visions? How did I come to…be the way that I am? How do I get back to normal? And why do I recognize you?”

“Many questions,” Elysian murmured with a small, bitter smile. She turned away from me, facing the castle as her hair blew in the slight breeze that was stirring up. Her shoulders tensed as she said, “I will answer your questions, Remus Lupin. But you will not like the answers.” 

The vision ended there, and I was once again plunged back into darkness. I have yet to hear the answers to my questions. I’m not entirely sure these visions are important, but they give me something to focus on, at least. Sirius is still here. I’m glad he’s here, even if I know it hurts him to see me like this. I can’t stand him being in pain. Maybe when I get my answers, I’ll be able to wake up, and he’ll stop hurting. That’s all that matters.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

“Can I open my eyes now?” Remus asked, tightening his hold on Sirius’ hand as he stumbled up winding stairs behind the other man. 

“Absolutely not,” Sirius stated firmly as he paused at the top of the stairs, turning around to make sure that Remus still had his blindfold on. As always, Sirius’ breath was taken away by the sight of his lover. The muggle clothes he was wearing had clearly seen better days – the threadbare button-down blue shirt was Remus’ favorite and he’d had it for years – and the jeans had holes in the knees. His face was a little too pale and his hair, which had once been a dark brown, was beginning to turn grey, giving Remus a slightly faded look. But there was a slight blush to his cheeks due to the mid-December cold, and he was smiling - too rare a sight as far as Sirius was concerned. Even with his graying hair, too pale skin and worn clothes, Sirius thought Remus was incredibly beautiful. Sirius sighed, tearing his gaze away from that delectable sight and forced himself to turn around and head down the hallway in front of them.

“Aren’t you at least going to tell me what this is all about?” Remus asked laughingly, as Sirius pulled him along. 

“Of course not love,” Sirius admonished. “It’s a surprise. Besides, we’re almost there.”

“But I hate surprises,” Remus said pleadingly. He let out a small “Oomff!”, as he stumbled into his boyfriend for the fourth time in the past fifteen minutes. “And if you’re going to keep me blindfolded, you could at least warn me when you stop!”

“Sorry Moony,” Sirius laughed, not sounding very sorry at all. “And you’ll love this surprise.” Or at least I hope so, Sirius thought as he rummaged around in his pockets for the key to the door he’d stopped in front of. The dark haired man let out a sigh of relief as he pulled a small key out of the inside pocket of his black leather jacket. His hands shook as he stuck the key in the lock and Sirius sucked in a nervous breath as he heard a tiny clicking noise. Sirius pushed the door open and pulled out his wand, muttering “Lumos,” as he stepped inside the room. 

Sirius glanced around the flat, and nodded approvingly. He, James, and Peter had done excellent work, if he said so himself. Six months ago, Sirius had bought this flat with money he’d inherited from his Great Uncle Alphard. It was relatively large, with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a full-sized kitchen, a spacious sitting room, and what had once been a nursery. However, he’d managed to get a good price on it, as no one had lived in it for years and it had been in desperate need of refurbishing. With the help of James and Peter, Sirius had done just that using money he’d made from the job he’d gotten the previous summer – having run away from home and moved in with the Potters, Sirius had insisted on getting a small job so that he could pay them back for letting him live with them. James’ parents had refused, and so Sirius had spent the money he’d made on new furniture the three of them picked out. They’d felt slightly guilty for keeping it from Remus, but Sirius had wanted to surprise him. Of course, it would all be for naught if Remus didn’t want to move in with him after they graduated in June.

He’d bought most of the furniture with Remus in mind, getting it second hand where he could, and in doing so had managed to save quite a bit. The only place Sirius had splurged was the ‘master’ bedroom – he’d bought a mahogany dresser that was large enough for the both of them, had turned the closet into a walk-in, and had purchased a king size bed with several sets of silk sheets. His landlord, an elderly man named Edward Jenkins had been quite astonished at the improvements he and his friends had made over the past few months, and had expressed how happy he was to finally have the place leased to someone. The fact that he’d told Mr. Jenkins he wouldn’t need a phone line had puzzled the friendly old man, but that was no matter. He was happy to have such a nice tenant.

“Sirius? What are you doing, love?” Remus’ voice served to shake Sirius out of his reverie. 

“Just inspecting your surprise Moony,” Sirius said. He walked back down the hallway – he’d wondered into the living room and had started staring out of the huge windows that looked over London without even realizing it. Sirius lead the other man into the living room and stopped. He wrapped his arms around Remus and briefly kissed him on the lips. “You can take the blindfold off now.”

Remus removed the pink and green polka dotted bandana Sirius had tied around his head and opened his eyes. Sirius swallowed nervously as he saw the amber eyes he loved so much widen in shock. Remus gasped as he looked around the nicely furnished room with its deep blue overstuffed chairs and sofa. There was a beautiful oriental rug lain out across the hardwood floor, and a long low bookshelf against the opposite wall. It was filled with pictures – some of the Marauders and some of him and Sirius. Remus turned to his mate and whispered, “Sirius…what – what’s all this?”

“This,” Sirius said, tightening his hold on Remus, “is your surprise. I bought this flat for the two of us, in the hopes that you would want to move in with me after graduation. What do you think?”

“You bought this? But how?” Remus seemed to be in shock. 

Sirius shrugged. “Simple. I used some of the money my uncle left me last summer to cover the first few months’ rent. The place was in pretty bad shape when I got it, so the price wasn’t too bad. Some of the furniture came with the flat and just needed a little repair work and I got whatever couldn’t be repaired from some second hand shops around the city. James and Peter helped me pick it out and clean the place up. Look, love, don’t say anything yet – jus let me show you everything else. I know you’ll love it. And don’t even think about saying you can’t stay here because it’s my place because that’s ridiculous. We’ll still have to pay rent – assuming you do want to live here – and I fully expect us to share responsibility for that. Besides, I’ve already set up a room for you to use as a study or a library or whatever.”

Remus smiled and pulled Sirius into a deep kiss, stopping his rambling. “Sirius,” he said as he pulled back with a smile. “I love it. Of course I want to move in with you. But the grand tour will have to wait.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” Sirius asked as he leaned in for another kiss.

“Because,” Remus murmured, “I want to see our bedroom first.”

“Right, let’s go,” Sirius said. Then he took Remus by surprise yet again, by bending down and sweeping the young werewolf into his arms and carrying him off down the hall despite his protests.

Suddenly, the scene started to blur and Sirius woke with a shock. He glanced around the darkened room and realized that it had only been a dream when his eyes landed on the empty spot beside him where Remus should have been. Sirius pushed the covers back and climbed out of bed. He walked out of the room, needing to get the sight of the empty bed out of his mind. Deciding the best way to distract himself would be to look over the evidence surrounding Remus’ disappearance yet again, Sirius made his way into the study – the nursery he’d redecorated for Remus to use – and picked the file up off the desk before settling into a seat near the window. 

There wasn’t much. They’d found evidence of a struggle – the house had been all but destroyed, so that hadn’t been difficult to find. Everything was consistent with a normal Death Eater attack. The Dark Mark above the house, magical traces of multiple duels, and of course the bodies of Remus’ parents. Sirius closed his eyes as a wave of intense grief passed over him at the memory of seeing Jocelyn and Robert Lupin – with whom he’d spent almost as much time as he had the Potters since he and Remus had officially become a couple – dead. They’d been like family to him, treated him as if he were their son (or, perhaps more accurately, their son-in-law), and now they were gone. 

The only proof they had that Remus had been there at all was his wand and a note. A note, written not by the Death Eaters, but by Remus’ mother had been found clutched in her hand, her body slumped over what remained of their kitchen table, long blonde hair matted with blood. The Death Eaters hadn’t used Avada Kedavra to kill her as they had her husband. They tortured her, and according to the letter, had forced Remus to watch by keeping him Petrified. Apparently, the Death Eaters had thought her dead when they left. But they’d been wrong. She’d lived just long enough to scribble out a short message in the hopes that the Aurors might be able to use it to find her son. She seemed to think she knew why the Death Eaters had taken him.

He is the controller, the note said. Only he can open the door to the Elysium fields. They want the door opened. 

No one, not even Dumbledore understood what that meant. The Order had been search for weeks for some evidence of what the Elysium fields might be, but aside from a reference to Roman mythology, they’d found nothing. Sirius sighed in defeat as he placed his copy of the note and all their findings back in the file. He stood up and stared around the room before grabbing the glass vase off the desk and hurling it at the wall. His pain and frustration only increased when he saw the vase Remus’ parents had given them as a housewarming gift shatter into a hundred pieces. Sirius lowered himself onto the desk, gasping for breath as he tried to fight his tears for the second time that night. This time he failed. 

“Oh God,” he choked, tears flowing down his cheeks. “Remus, where are you? I’m lost. I need you,” his words became increasingly incoherent as the tears came. Finally, Sirius gave in to his despair. For now, at least. He would find his Remus and bring him back.


	5. Chapter Four

Remus' POV - the present

I am…I have no idea where I am. This is obviously another vision, the first I’ve had since Elysian finally agreed to answer my questions. I’m almost thankful to be having this vision, and not only because I may finally be able to get my answers. They’re disconcerting, yes, but at least in the visions I’ve still got my senses. In the real ‘waking’ world not only can’t I see, but I’ve also lost the ability to hear. I’m both deaf and blind, and it is – terrifying. But here, now, I can see everything in startling detail. And I can hear – birds, wind blowing through oak trees. I can even hear crickets and frogs.

I’m standing at the end of a dirt road, trees on one side and a field of corn as far as the eye can see. Its dusk – I can just make out the setting sun over the tops of the trees, and the sky is bathed in different shades of pink and orange. There is a bend in the road a few meters ahead, around which I can’t make anything out. Its odd because although I’m positive I’ve never been here – wherever here is – this place is very familiar. Just like Elysian is familiar. Of course, it is entirely possible that I have been here before and just don’t remember; the landscape, while attractive, looks exactly like any number of other country roads near farms. Somehow though, I can’t help but feel that this place – or at least the place this road leads to – is different. So I decide to walk, to see what’s at the end.

A flock of birds passes overhead, twittering as they fly south. I glance up briefly – it’s wonderful to be able to see – but can’t tell what kind they are. As I round the bend, the scent of someone cooking reaches me. It smells like…apple pie. Seconds later the road widens, the trees thin out, and a large farmhouse comes into view not far away. In the distance I can see a small barn, its doors thrown open wide. There’s a behemoth of a machine near the cornfield on the right – I think the muggles call it a tractor. I approach the house, a two story building painted a pale blue with white trim and a large porch one the front. There are three windows on the top floor and four on the bottom, one of which is open. There is a pie sitting on the window, and two red rocking chairs on the porch with a small wooden table between them.

Just as I near the house and move to traverse the steps leading onto the porch, I notice that Elysian has appeared, sitting in one of the rocking chairs. She’s still wearing the same dress, still holding the object in her lap, and she’s staring off into the distance, her gaze unfocused. I notice immediately that she doesn’t appear to be angry anymore, just…resigned. Sad, almost.

“Hello, Remus Lupin,” She whispered, making me jump. I’d thought she hadn’t noticed me.

“Hello,” I say as I take the other rocking chair. I want to mention what she said the last time we saw each other, but can’t help feeling that it would be too rude.

“You want to know the answers to your questions, I suppose,” Elysian said, looking at me suddenly. For the first time I notice her eyes. They’re a greenish brown, like my mother’s. For some reason, that thought brings me sadness.

I clear my throat. “Yes, I do.”

Elysian nodded. “I will answer them now,” she said and she began turning the object in her hand around, almost nervously. “You asked me why you recognize me, though you can’t remember ever seeing me before having these visions. You know me because I am, or was, your great-grandmother on your mother’s side. You never met me while I was alive, but you’ve seen pictures – and I look quite a bit like your mother, as you may have noticed. You wanted to know what this object is. It is a key, of sorts. It doesn’t open any physical door, but rather it allows one passage through a gateway into another world.”

She must have noticed my confusion, because she said, “Remus, I you must trust me. This will all become clear in time. However, now, I need you to listen and not interrupt. There is not much time.”

I wondered whether she meant there wasn’t much time before my two weeks were up, but pushed the thought aside. I nodded. “I won’t interrupt.”

“Good,” She said. “Now, as I said, this object is a key. It is called the crusif (A/N: I'll eat my wand - I made one for Halloween - if this really is a real word.), and is very powerful. If operated correctly, it can be used to transport hundreds of beings between your world and mine. My world is a spirit world…you have seem some of its manifestations in these visions, this being one of them. It isn’t the afterlife, although the only witches and wizards who come here naturally – without the key – are dead when they arrive. The only way to leave is with the crusif. However, very few witches and wizards are able to control it. The ability to do so is one that is inherited. Thousands of years ago, dozens of magical folk had this ability, and they passed it on to their immediate descendants but throughout the generations this ability has diminished into a supposed myth. Very few people even know of it, and most of those who do think it a fairy tail. When I was young, my parents were among those who believed in the existence of the crusif, and they had good reason to. You see Remus, the ability to control the crusif has survived in two wizard families, even after all this time.”

“My mother’s,” I breathe, my eyes wide as I stare at her. “Ours is one of those families.”

“Yes,” She said with a short nod. “I was the first in our family in many centuries to be able to control it. You are the second. That is why you are having these visions – it is a method our ancestors developed for showing the next in line the power they have. When I found the crusif, as you must do, I learned how to transfer what knowledge I am allowed to give on to the next to inherit it.”

“I see,” I mutter, glancing at her. “But you still haven’t answered my other questions. Why were you angry? How did I come to be injured? And what do you mean, I have to find the crusif? That’s it, isn’t it?” I ask, gesturing towards her hands.

“This is not the true crusif, no,” she said with a shake of her head. “It is merely a representation of the real thing, so that you will be able to recognize it when you see it. You came to be injured, because you have been attacked by dark wizards recently, though you do not remember it. And no, I can not tell you the details of the attack because it would be best if your friends told you what happened. As far as why I have been angry…that is because people who do not belong in this world have been attempting to reach it. I told you that the living can come to this world using the crusif, but I did not tell you why anyone would want to. You see my the spirits in my realm are guardians of magical objects that are so ancient that even in Merlin’s time few thought they were real. They are extremely powerful, and if used improperly, could be used to wreak havoc on the witches and wizards of your world. There are only two people in your world who are strong enough to use them, and both firmly believe in their existence. One of them has been trying to cross the divide between our realms so that he might find them.”

“Voldemort,” I say with a horrified gasp. Elysian nodded again, a sad, anxious look in her eyes. “Voldemort wants to cross.”

“Indeed,” she whispered. “Fortunately, his mother’s family no longer carries the ability to control the crusif. I believe you are the only one who currently has the power to do so, though I can not be absolutely certain. You will need to find out which other family still has the power, to be sure.”

“You mean you don’t know?” I ask in surprise. “But if you don’t know, then how can you be so sure that Voldemort doesn’t have the power?”

“Because he would have used it already,” she said simply. “And you would have died in that attack.”

I stay silent for a few moments, thinking. “So, Voldemort knows, or at least he suspects that I’ve got the power to control the crusif. He probably attacked me because he wanted me to help him. How long ago was I attacked? Was I held captive? Did I tell him anything?”

“You were held captive, though I do not know for how long. Time has very little meaning here. I do not know if you told him anything about your Order,” Elysian said, raising her eyebrows. “But you knew nothing about the crusif, and that is what they wanted information about, so I don’t think so. Do you have any more questions?”

“Many,” I tell her. “Where is the gateway you mentioned? What do I do when I find the crusif? How do I find it? And what is this world called?”

Elysian smiled slightly, for the first time. “How you find it is up to you – I can not tell you, as I do not remember how I found it. When you do find the crusif, you must seal the passage between our realms by merging it with the gateway. You will know where the gateway is when you find the crusif. The knowledge will… assert itself in your mind. And this realm is known as The Elysium Fields.”

As the girl – my great-grandmother – becomes quiet, this realm around me begins to fade slowly. I try to say something, to ask if I’ll see her again, but find that I can’t. Everything is quiet now. And dark. My thoughts seem to revolve around apple pie, Sirius, and how I’m supposed to find this crusif if I can’t even wake up. I’m more terrified than I’ve ever been in my entire life.


	6. Chapter Five

Sirius' POV - the past

“I don’t understand,” Sirius said, his voice choked with pain. He looked at the people crowed into the tiny room above Ollivander’s Wands. “How can you just- he’s not- we can’t just give up!”

“Sirius,” Frank Longbottom said quietly. “None of us want to…that is, we all want him back. But it’s been three weeks. I think its time we face the facts-”

“Face WHAT facts!” Sirius yelled, jumping up from his chair. “There are no facts! So it’s been three weeks, so what? I wasn’t aware there was a time limit on how long someone can survive in captivity. We know nothing about why he was taken, except for what was in the note! There is nothing to say that Remus isn’t still alive, that he’s not- not trying to get away. We can’t just- can’t just abandon him.”

“And what, precisely would you have us do about it, Black?” Moody growled, his scarred face twisting into a grimace as he began pacing around the cramped room. “As you said, we know nothing. Nothing about where Lupin was taken, nothing about the state he was in when he was taken, nothing about what’s being done to him – assuming that he’s still alive. How exactly do you expect us to find him?”

“I DON’T KNOW!” Sirius roared, kicking his chair aside. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this. He’d thought they’d called a meeting of the Order to discuss what to do about finding Remus, not announce that they were giving up. Sirius couldn’t believe that these people who were so willing to fight to the death against the world’s most powerful tyrant were refusing to even try and rescue one of their most loyal comrades. “All I know is that we’ve got to at least try.”

“Sirius,” Dumbledore said, stepping into the argument before it could escalate any further. “We are trying. We will not give up on Remus, but until we know more about his situation, there is nothing more that we can do. The Order must focus on other tasks.”

Now,” Dumbledore said, speaking over Sirius’ attempt at a retort, “as Mr. Fenwick said a few moments ago, it is imperative that we uncover the links recent security breaches at our own and other foreign Ministries of Magic. Mr. Potter, I believe you know what other information we will need,” he said, handing a folder to James, who had stood up with Sirius a few moments ago.

“Yes, sir,” James said, glancing at Sirius before taking the papers and sitting back down. Sirius righted his chair and sat back down, hunching his shoulders as if trying to ward off an invisible attack.

The meeting continued without any interruptions. Dumbledore handed out other mission assignments to the members – except Sirius, who silently held the same defeated posture for the remaining two hours. He barely even noticed when the meeting finally ended, staying where he was while chairs all around him scraped against the hardwood floor as everyone else stood up to leave. Sirius didn’t want to go home.

He could hear some of the others talking quietly to each other, but no one spoke to him as they walked by. Sirius sensed Dumbledore pause beside his chair as if he wanted to say something, but a moment later the Headmaster walked soundlessly to the back of the room and out of the door. James followed him a second later, and Sirius heard him whispering something to Lily as everyone else cleared out.

James shut the door after everyone else had gone, then turned around to look at his friend. Every line of his body spoke of absolute misery. James wondered briefly what he would do if anything ever happened to Lily, but shut that thought down immediately. It was much too terrible to even consider. Not saying a word, James returned to where Sirius was and sat down next to him.

Neither of them spoke for a few moments, before James finally broke the silence.

“Sometimes,” he said, running a hand through his hair and looking at Sirius. “Sometimes I feel like…like I can’t remember what we’re fighting for. Like this – this mess of a life is all any of us have ever had, and all we’ll ever have. Like it doesn’t matter that Lily and I are going to be parents, that we are living… Sometimes things like this happen, and I just can’t see how things could have ever been any different. So I wonder what’s the point of fighting? What’s the point, when all that ever seems to happen is that someone else dies, someone else goes over to the dark side, someone else-”

“Disappears,” Sirius murmured, placing his head in his hands. “I know. I forget all the time. The thing is – the thing is, Remus never forgot. He always…I remember asking him that right after Gideon and Fabian were murdered. He told me that we had to fight because fighting meant hoping. Hoping that maybe tomorrow will be better. That maybe some day, some tomorrow, we won’t have to worry about not forgetting what it was like to be happy because we’ll know.”

“He ever tell you when that tomorrow will be?” James asked, standing up and grabbing a packet of documents Dumbledore had given him from the now empty chair next to his.

“No,” Sirius whispered. “But he believed it. He made me believe it too, James. That’s why I can’t give up on him, don’t you see? Giving up means thinking that he’s not coming home. That I won’t ever see him again. I can’t stand that. My tomorrow will never come if I don’t ever see Remus again. I can’t think that he’s-”

Sirius couldn’t speak for a moment. His throat hurt. He didn’t look up, but he felt James lay a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I know,” James whispered, squeezing his friend’s shoulder. “I know. Tomorrow will come, Sirius.”


	7. Chapter Six

Remus' POV - the present

We all have places we can go to where we believe we will always feel safe. Those places may real or imagined, but they are always familiar and never seem to change. I have two. One is a long dirt road, much like the one I saw in my last vision with Elysian. This road dead-ends where a rotted-out fence once stood alongside an old scarecrow, two giant trees and a barely visible path that leads to an old shack I only visited once a month as a child. On both sides of the first long stretch of that road are fields of plowed land owned by an old farmer named Mr. Nettles. The rest of the road is surrounded by trees bigger than houses, whose branches seem to sway welcomingly even when there isn’t any breeze.

This road isn’t particularly unusual, but it is mine. I don’t own it, but it is mine because I used to walk it. Whenever I felt nervous or scared or excited or whenever I just needed to get away I walked it. After I was bitten, I walked. After I got my Hogwarts letter I walked. Before I told my parents I was moving in with the infamous Sirius Black, I walked. No matter how I felt when I left, I always came back feeling like I could handle anything.

The other place that always makes me feel safe is my bedroom at my parents’ home. Not the one I share with Sirius – I do feel safe there, but it’s just too new. There is nothing remarkable or magical about my childhood bedroom. The light blue walls, the old carpet of indistinguishable color, the too-small bookshelf, the creaky old bed with the torn and worn blue and green blanket, and the banged up muggle radio all add to the general sense of not-quite poverty that seems to pervade that house. The only things that mark this room as belonging to a wizard are the pictures that litter every the walls and dresser. Somehow the images of my friends and family waving, smiling, and in Sirius and James’ case making obscene gestures at me remind me that even when I’m by myself I’m not alone or unconnected. They remind me that there are people in this often cruel world who care about a lowly werewolf.

Both of these places are more important to me now than they ever have been. I know from my visions that at the moment I can physically be in one place – St. Mungo’s – and mentally be in another. I’m not sure how I can do this, but I suppose it is an added ability one has to have in order to control the crusif. But the important thing is that I now know how I’m going to find the crusif: I have to take a journey in my mind. I must start out on my road and end in my bedroom. Whatever twists and turns my mind takes are just markers I have to pass along the way. When I finally find the crusif in my mind I will have reached my room – and I’ll wake up with the knowledge of how to find it in the physical world.


	8. Chapter Seven

Sirius' POV - the past 

Today was his day off, and Sirius was going to spend it going over the remains of the Lupins’ house for what was probably the millionth time. He was standing in what was left of their dining room when he suddenly had the overwhelming need to go to the library. Sirius didn’t understood why – the Aurors (as well as the Order) had already done an exhaustive search of the house – but he had the feeling that he would find something important there. He was disappointed when he reached the nearly empty room; all the books had been confiscated by the Ministry as evidence, and all of the furniture had been destroyed in the attack. There was nothing of value left. Still, he was sure he’d been drawn there for a reason.

He was right.

Sirius walked aimlessly amongst the shattered bookshelves, wondering why he kept coming back to this place, when he came to an abrupt stop. It seemed that all of the furniture had not been demolished. There, just a few feet in front of him and nestled between the remains of two large bookshelves, was a small rectangular wooden case. Hardly two feet tall, the thing was scratched and dirty – but intact. Sirius briefly wondered how he’d never seen it before, but pushed the thought aside as he approached it.

This is why I came here today, he thought. This thing, whatever it is, will lead me to Remus. Somehow.

He dropped to his knees as he neared the object, pulled his wand out and Accio’d the case. Catching it deftly with his free hand, Sirius gently placed it on the floor in front of him. It occurred to him that perhaps it would be better if he let someone else look at the case before opening it, but he had the feeling that he’d been the one to find it for a reason. The top of the case was latched shut. The lock seemed solid – at first Sirius thought he’d have trouble getting it open without a proper combination spell, but it easily came apart when Sirius tapped it with his wand. As the top of the case began to creek open of its own accord, and Sirius gasped as the room started to rearrange itself before his eyes.

The bookshelves and tables put themselves back together, the dirt and grime that had accumulated over the past month and a half disappeared, and books materialized on the shelves. Within seconds, it was as if the attack had never happened. What the hell? Sirius thought to himself. At first glance, it seemed as if what he was seeing was real, but then he realized that everything was slightly faded. Confused, and wondering what was going on, Sirius picked up the box and leapt to his feet. He whirled around in shock as he heard whispered voices and footsteps coming his way; he’d thought he was alone.

He ducked back into the shadows of the newly rebuilt and refilled bookshelves as the voices approached. Sirius tucked the case into a pocket in his robes and held his wand ready when the two people who were whispering furiously came into view. Sirius could feel his entire body go slack with shock. It was Remus’ grandmother – who’d been dead since Christmas of seventh year – and mother.

“Jocelyn, he needs to know the truth!” Collette Ricolla whispered furiously to her daughter as they approached the spot where Sirius had first noticed the wooden case.

“I know he does, mother, but he’s not ready!” Remus’ mother murmured back. She was fumbling in her robes for something. “He’s only just turned thirteen – Remus isn’t old enough to know about the key. Besides, we’re not even sure yet that he’ll be the next one!”

“You, may not be sure, my dear, but I am,” Collette replied pushing her wispy slate-grey hair out of her deep blue eyes. “My mother was a controller, just as her great-grandfather was, and just as his great-grandfather was. The pattern will hold as it always has, I’m sure of it. And if someone doesn’t tell him the truth – and soon – he’ll be as unprepared to deal with the power of the crusif as my mother was. More unprepared I might say, because she had at least heard the legends about it.”

“Mother, don’t you think I realize that?” Jocelyn said pointedly. She gave a small triumphant, “Aha!” as she finally found what she’d been looking for in her pockets. It was a tiny golden key that matched the lock Sirius had seen on the case. She conjured up a roll of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a quill before continuing, “I know that he’ll need to be ready, and if he shows any signs of being a controller you can be sure that I’ll tell him everything. But in case your wrong, I just don’t want to risk anyone else finding out about the key. We only know most of the lines that have died away, we don’t know all of them yet, and I won’t put my son in any unnecessary danger.”

“I don’t want Remus in danger either,” Collette said in a low whisper as her daughter leaned over a nearby table and began to write quickly. She continued speaking as Jocelyn knelt down on the floor, opened an undamaged version of the case Sirius had found, and shoved whatever she’d written inside. “But surely you know that if I’m right, and he develops his abilities unprepared, he may not be able to control the crusif? I know he’ll be guided by our ancestors, but their guidance wasn’t enough to save my mother and it may not be enough to save him, either!”

Jocelyn locked the case before standing and turning to face her mother. Sirius strained to hear what she was saying, but as suddenly as everything had changed, his surroundings began to return to their former state of destruction. Remus’ mother and grandmother began to fade, their voices floating away in the wind. Sirius stood, once again surrounded by the remains of a once-happy house and pondered what he’d just experienced. He had the sudden sense that he’d heard that conversation before.

Sirius left the ruins of the house hours after he’d arrived, and as he hopped onto his motorcycle, he felt in his robes for the case. It was still there. He’d open it again when he got home. Maybe whatever Mrs. Lupin had written was still there. Maybe it would help him find Remus.

Sirius trudged through the entrance of his and Remus’ apartment, slamming the door behind him. He hung his coat up, lit the lamps with a flick of his wand, and absently walked into the kitchen. Sirius barely registered his surroundings, focusing instead on trying to remember the details of the scene he’d witnessed between Remus’ mother and grandmother. They’d mentioned a key, something called a crusif, and that Remus might be some sort of controller. That was what Mrs. Lupin had said in her last note, hadn’t she? That Remus was ‘the controller’. Sirius knew that was important, but what did it all mean?

He was forced out of his reverie when he bumped into the kitchen table. He noticed, for the first time, James and Lily’s barn owl haughtily sitting on his table and holding a letter. Sirius walked around to the cupboard where Remus kept the owl treats and pulled a few out. He tossed them to the owl, wondering how it had gotten in since all the windows were charmed closed. Sirius picked up the letter, which the owl had dropped, and began to read. It turned out to be nothing more than a hastily scrawled note, but hope bloomed in his chest and his hands began to shake. Sirius took a deep breath before marching purposefully back down the hall and out of the empty tortuously empty apartment. He was going to the Potters’.

Earlier that evening:

“James! James! I think we’ve got it!” Lily shouted as she stumbled out of their fireplace. James jolted awake on the couch and looked around dumbly, his robes rumpled and glasses askew. He’d barely had time to register that Lily was home before she’d shoved half a dozen ancient looking books into his arms and collapsed next to him onto the corduroy couch.

“I think we’re finally onto something, James!” Lily said breathlessly as she pulled one of the books into her lap and began frantically flipping through it.

“Huh? Lily, what are you talking about?” James asked. He looked at the books in confusion. They were so old he couldn’t even make out the titles. “Who’s figured out what?”

Lily took a deep, calming breath before looking her husband in the eyes for the first time in the past few minutes. “Ever since that last Order meeting, Grace and I have been doing some research – other than what we’ve had to do for Dumbledore, that is. We didn’t mention it to any of you because we didn’t want to get Sirius’ hopes up. But now we think we may have figured out why the Death Eaters took Remus – and how we might be able to find him.”

James stared at Lily, his mouth hanging open in shock. Several seconds passed before he was able to respond. “You – what? Remus?” He spluttered incoherently. “What – what do you mean you – I mean, how? What happened?”

She told him.


End file.
